Adjusting to Dalton
by FroggerJane
Summary: This is more how Puck adjusts to Kurt being at Dalton. One-shot. K  because I'm pretty sure there's one mild curse.


A.N. Established PucKurt relationship set before the Valentine's Day episode. Mostly goes along with the show, except Kurt doesn't like Blaine, they never get together, and all the flirty duets are unintentionally flirty and mean nothing. Also, no one knows about Puck and Kurt and that's another reason Kurt went to Dalton: He was sick of waiting for Puck to come out of the closet. Oh, and Lauren Zizes found out about them and offered to be a beard for Puck to hide the relationship, but Kurt's not comfortable with them kissing or anything, and that's why she's playing hard to get. Also, I wrote this back before we found out that Kurt didn't board at Dalton, so please forgive the fact that it says he does. Sorry for the long author's note! I'll now get on with the story!

NOAH+KURT~NOAH+KURT~NOAH+KURT~NOAH+KURT

I think Blaine could tell I wasn't really paying attention to our fellow Warblers, but he didn't comment. We had just finished a grueling rehearsal for sectionals, and we were making our way back to the Mozart Hall where the Warblers, along with the orchestra students, boarded. The boys around me were talking and laughing, but I wasn't listening. I couldn't stop thinking about Noah. We had had a huge fight about Karofsky. I know I shouldn't have compared the two jocks, but I was upset, and when Noah yelled that he was going to make sure Karofsky would never be able to kiss anyone else, I snapped. I didn't want to be reminded of that, and I knew it would just get him sent back to Juvie, so when my dad offered me Dalton, I jumped. I might have been running away, but I couldn't look back at him when I told the Glee club goodbye. Maybe I should call him or—

"Kurt!" What the Hell? I'm hearing his voice now? He can't be here, can he? "Kurt, wait up!"

I turned around slowly, noticing that the rest of the Warblers had stopped walking and were glancing behind them at the Mohawk-ridden teenager in a Letterman jacket running toward them.

"Is that another of your tormentors?" Blaine asked gently, making sure only I could hear. All I could do was shake my head, not taking my eyes off of my dirty little secret who was only about ten feet away, and slowing down. He stopped after another five feet.

"What do you want, Puck?" Okay, so maybe having my 'bitch-mode' as a way to hide how hurt I was wasn't a good idea. I could see it hurt him, but he knew me well enough to recognize one of my defense mechanisms when he saw it.

"Kurt, just please listen!" I crossed my arms, but nodded for him to continue. He sighed in relief before stating, "I'm not asking you to come back, 'cause even though I want you to, I know I can't keep you safe from Karofsky—" here I squirmed in embarrassment. Only Blaine knew about my main reason for transferring, but didn't stop him. "—without getting put back in Juvie." Okay, maybe I _should _stop him, I thought, hearing the confusion of the teenage boys around me.

"Puck," I cut in, "Maybe we should talk somewhere more private." He was shaking his head before I even stopped talking.

"No." he insisted. "Even though you haven't said it, I know you want me to come out. I figured since I needed to talk to you, and it would be harder to admit I'm gay to our own glee club, I could kill two birds with one stone here. Besides, if I don't say this soon, I'll chicken out." I raised my eyebrows; Puckzilla doubted his badass status? He seemed to read my mind, "Don't worry, Princess. I'm still a badass. But there are two things that scare me: Hurting you, and what will happen to me at your dad's hands if I do." I smiled, thinking of my dad knowing even before Mercedes; how he had threatened Noah and given me 'the talk'.

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry I've made you keep us a secret from everyone but Aretha—sorry, I know I'm supposed to call her Mercedes, but old habits, ya'know—anyway, I want that to change. I want to go to the movies with you, and take you to Breadsticks, 'cause there's nothing else to do in Lima. And I want to take you shopping 'cause you're so pretty when you talk about clothes, even though I almost never know what you're talking about." I laughed, but there were tears in my eyes. He looked like he was about to comment on them, so I motioned for him to continue.

"I want to stand up on a table and declare—see Kurt, I _do_ use the words you teach me, don't roll your eyes—that I'm gay, or at least Hummelsexual, since you're the only one that gets me hot anymore," I blushed beet-red and he quickly apologized, "Sorry, babe, I know you get embarrassed when I say things like that. Anyway, I wanna tell everyone that I love you, and we've been dating for a while now, and holy shit I just told you 'I love you' for the first time in front of a bunch of your friends and it wasn't at all romantic and you'll probably break up with me now and—"

I'd been slowly walking toward him during the whole speech and when I reached him I cut him off with a curt, "Shut up," and leaned up on my tiptoes to kiss him. He detached from my lips to hug me and whisper "I love you," into my neck. I pulled back and looked into his eyes before I replied, "I love you too," through the tears that were coursing down my cheeks. He laughed and I made an undignified squeak as he picked me up and spun the both of us around, ignoring my half-hearted objections to the possible ruin of my hair. We kissed again, more hungrily this time, to the soundtrack of applause and cat-calls provided by my fellow Warblers.


End file.
